You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
“Yes.”<br />
“Anything more than that?”<br />
“What do you mean?”<br />
“I’m wondering whether we should take you to a doctor.”<br />
I shook my head. “Just sore.”<br />
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”<br />
I did not.<br />
“Seems to me you put yourself and others in danger,” Uncle Myron said.<br />
I was debating on how to tap-dance around the truth. Myron knew some of it. The<br />
police knew some of it. But I couldn’t tell them all of it. They’d probably never believe it<br />
anyway. Heck, I didn’t believe it.<br />
“There are always consequences to being a hero, Mickey,” Uncle Myron said in a soft<br />
voice. “Even when you’re sure you’re doing the right thing. I’ve learned that the hard<br />
way.”<br />
We looked at each other. Myron was about to say something more when his cell phone<br />
buzzed. He looked at the caller ID, and something close to shock crossed his face.<br />
“Sorry,” he said to me, “but I need to take this.”<br />
He stepped away, deeper into the yard. He hunched over and started talking.<br />
You put yourself and others in danger . . .<br />
I could take the risks—that would be on me—but what about my friends? What about<br />
the “others”? I stepped away in the opposite direction and took out my cell phone.<br />
Four of us had gone into that evil nightclub to rescue Ashley: Ema and I, of course—<br />
and then there had been Spoon and Rachel. Spoon, like Ema and me, was an outcast.<br />
Rachel was anything but.<br />
I needed to check up on them.<br />
I texted Spoon first and got the following auto-answer. Spoon: I cannot reply at this<br />
time. Due to recent events I am grounded until the age of 34.<br />
And then, because he was Spoon, he added: Abraham Lincoln’s mother died of<br />
milk poisoning at age 34.<br />
I couldn’t help but smile. Spoon had “borrowed” his father’s custodial truck in order to<br />
help us. His parents were the most caring and overprotective in our little group, so I’d<br />
figured that he’d get in the most trouble. Luckily, Spoon was, if nothing else, resourceful.<br />
He’d be okay.<br />
I texted the fourth and final member of the gang—Rachel Caldwell. How to describe<br />
Rachel . . . ? I will make it simple: Rachel was, for lack of a better phrase, the hottest girl<br />
in school. By definition, I guess, every school has one, and, yes, she was much more than<br />
super-attractive, so please don’t label me a sexist pig too quickly. The bravery and<br />
resourcefulness she’d demonstrated in that horrible place was mind-boggling.<br />
But still, if I am being totally honest here, her hotness was the first thing to pop into<br />
my—and almost everyone in school’s—head.<br />
How Rachel ended up joining forces with the looked-down-upon new kid (me), the selfdefined<br />
goth-emo “fat girl” (Ema), and the janitor’s nerdy kid (Spoon) was still something<br />
of a mystery.